


you made me a believer

by ClementineKitten



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, hit me with that sweet angst daddy, my love for kaimaki will NEvEr FaDE, this isnt very good but here take it, this was supposed to be like 1000 words but w/e, v3 spoilers for chapter one-chapter five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:08:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementineKitten/pseuds/ClementineKitten
Summary: Ever since becoming an assassin, Maki followed a strict creed.i. Do not fraternize with anyone who could turn against you, read- everyoneii. Do not get attached to othersiii. Do not fall in loveFunny how one Kaito Momota is causing her to break all of her rules.





	you made me a believer

i. fraternizing

**“First things first  
I'ma say all the words inside my head  
I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been”**

“Harukawa!”

The aforementioned Harukawa glanced up from her meal- some type of salad with a stupid and equally unfunny name. She was greeted with a sight that wasn’t much more pleasant than her food- a tall, obnoxious ball of enthusiasm, purple, and galaxy print.

“Go away,” she scoffed, digging her fork into her lettuce. Momota pouted and slid into the seat across from her. Harukawa backed up in her own and crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?” she demanded as Momota stared at her with a scrutinizing gaze like he was examining every inch of her body. She narrowed her eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Sorry, just doing a once-over.” He smiled brightly which only deepened the frown on Harukawa’s lips. “So anyways, I’m devising a plan to take down Monokuma when the timer ends. I need as many people as I can find. You in?”

Harukawa glared at him. “What’s the point? We can’t fight him, he’s a robot- he’s probably got spares. And also, how do you know that no one is going to kill before the time is up?” she asked, her tone never once wavering.

Momota leaned across the table with a frown. “Do you- Do you really think one of us will kill someone else? That’s crazy talk, Harukawa. You’re crazy.” He shook his head, like he couldn’t even imagine such an event coming to pass.

“Is it really so crazy?” Harukawa inquired evenly. “None of us know each other. We’ve been put in an impossible situation- I can’t imagine many of us are that willing to just lie down and take the punishment. I’d say that someone being murdered is a very possible situation,” she pointed out, calm as ever. Momota’s eyes bulged out of his head, his gaze clouding.

“That’s just a lousy way of thinking. None of us are going to get killed, not on my watch. This game is bullshit, and I ain’t gonna let that bear do what he wants,” he said sternly, banging his fist on the table. Harukawa’s bowl vibrated at the impact. Harukawa gave the boy a disgusted look.

“You’re way too trusting,” she demeaned. “You’ll be the first one killed if you don’t become more suspicious of the people around you.” She adjusted the bow on her uniform.

“I’d rather believe in all of these guys than go around suspecting them all the time. That can’t be a good way to live,” he said, tipping his head to the side. Harukawa glared at him through half-closed eyes.

“You can’t survive on belief alone,” she muttered darkly. Momota stood.

“Not with that attitude you can’t,” he responded. “Watch me.” He grinned confidently, and stretched a hand out to Harukawa.

“Anyways, I came to talk to you because of my plan. We got sidetracked, but when the timer runs out, we’re going to fight Monokuma.” He beamed. Harukawa’s eyes went to his hand, but she didn’t take it.

“You’re a fool if you think you can fight him,” she told him, steel in her eyes. “Why did you come to someone like me when you could go to Akamatsu or Saihara, who would jump even at the slightest opportunity to end this killing game?”

“Can’t find the two of them. They’re probably off somewhere together.” The grin on Momota’s face clearly showed what he thought they were doing, while Harukawa’s first thought was that one or both of them were killed. She curled her lip. “But I knew I needed you for this task.”

“Why me?” Harukawa asked, running her finger across the edge of the table.

“Cuz you look like you can fight,” Momota replied. Harukawa felt her blood run cold, if only for a moment. Her jaw tightened.

“What makes you say that?” she questioned. Momota shrugged.

“You’re lithe, and kind of scary. I just get the fighter vibe from you,” he said with a half-grin. Harukawa felt some semblance of relief spread through her chest. _Of course. He’s too stupid to have actually figured anything out._

“I’m just a caregiver,” she responded.

“Well, then, show me what a caregiver can do!” Momota shouted, a little too loudly. Harukawa gripped the table’s edge.

_More than you can imagine, space boy._

“Or are you too chicken?” Momota smirked. Harukawa stood abruptly.

“ _You_ , of all people, have no right to call me chicken,” she growled. “Well, I guess I'm sick of this game already, so, what're the details?” _God, I can’t believe I’m conceding to work with_ Momota, _of all people._ Momota climbed over the table to come to Harukawa’s side, completely disregarding the bowl of salad which he nearly knocked over.

“Well, am I glad you asked.” He tried to put his hand on Harukawa’s shoulder, but she immediately pulled away. “You see-”

…

-

ii. getting attached

**“Second things second  
Don't you tell me what you think that I could be  
I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea, oh-ooh”**

Harukawa was staring at her wall, thinking of nothing in particular despite the torrent of thoughts raging through her mind. She closed her eyes shut tightly, balling her hands into fists, imagining what it’d feel like to crush Ouma’s neck with them.

It was cathartic, to think of his face twisting into a pained expression, his skin painted different shades of red, blue, and purple as his brain is slowly sapped of oxygen. He managed to make her life of almost hell plummet into that of definite hell.

The Super High School Level Assassin… What a dirty talent.

Well, at least she didn’t have to guard her Research Lab every waking moment anymore. 

_Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong!_

An obnoxious string of door bell reverberations pierced Harukawa’s thoughts. She made no attempt to move from her bed and instead kept her blank glare fixed on the wall across from her. The ringing refused to cease, however, and she noticed someone jostling her doorknob around.

“Go away!” she barked. The noise stopped for a brief moment before immediately picking back up. Harukawa clapped her hands over her ears, trying to free herself from it.

After a few more seconds where it showed no signs of stopping, she leapt from her bed and marched angrily over to the door. Firmly grasping the knob, she threw the door open, and found Momota standing there, hand held up in the air.

“Oh, hey! You finally answered. I was getting a bit worried,” he said cheerily. With a reddened face, Harukawa moved to slam the door, but Momota quickly did a side-hop into her room, and soon the two of them were stuck in her dorm, alone, behind a closed door.

Harukawa crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?” she asked with a sigh of exasperation. Momota looked around her room like a scientist examining a specimen (or Shinguuji examining the other students).

“You shouldn’t hole yourself up in here all the time. It’s bad for your health,” he told her.

“Since when do you care about my health?” She frowned. Momota brightened.

“I dunno. Just, with what Ouma said and all, I wanted to check up on you,” he said- and he sounded genuine. Harukawa flattened her mouth into a line.

“With what Ouma said, you shouldn’t get within ten feet of me,” she muttered, averting her gaze from Momota. The boy suddenly approached her and grabbed her wrist. She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly. The two locked eyes for a moment.

“You don’t want to be like this. You don’t want to be distrusted by the other students,” he whispered. Harukawa glared at him incredulously.

“My whole life is built on distrust. It’s a hallmark of my work,” she said, her voice dripping with disgust. Momota didn’t let go of her arm.

“But does that mean you like it?” he asked, staring into her eyes with such an intensity that one wouldn’t think was possible for someone like Momota to muster. For once in her life, Maki Harukawa was at a loss for words. Her mouth slightly parted, she said nothing.

“I thought so,” Momota said, sounding satisfied. “I can help you.”

“What makes you think,” Harukawa began slowly, “that you know anything about me?”

Momota blinked at her. “It’s just a hunch.”

“A hunch, huh?” Harukawa prodded the inside of her cheek with her tongue, nonplussed.

“Why don’t you come training with Shuichi and I?” he suddenly asked. “We do a workout every night. It’s for him, not me.”

“Do you really think that someone like me needs to workout?” Harukawa replied. Momota cocked his head to the side and gave her a wide smile that made her bite her lip.

“Please? Just for one night? For me?” he pled. 

“I don’t owe you anything, so why tack the ‘for me’ on the end?” Harukawa reminded him. Momota kept staring at her, with wide, puppy-dog eyes. _How pathetic can one guy be?_ She rolled her eyes. Inside of her mouth, she bit her tongue. _Although..._

“Okay, but only because I feel overwhelming amounts of pity for you,” she sneered. 

“That’s good enough for me!” Momota cheered.

“Now, can you let go of me?” Harukawa asked. Momota’s eyes widened and his gaze fell to their hands- without either of them realizing, his hands had slid down her wrist and the two had been standing, holding hands, for the past few minutes.

“Oh, er, yeah.” Momota dropped her hand and discreetly wiped his own on his jacket. Harukawa looked at the floor, ignoring Momota as he led her out of her room and the sudden feeling of heat that surged into her cheeks.

-

iii. falling in love

**“Last things last  
By the grace of the fire and the flame  
You're the face of the future, the blood in my veins, oh-ooh”**

“Did you… Like…. Akamatsu?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I just assumed you didn’t, because that would be weird.”

“...”

“Tell me then, in what situation is liking someone _not_ weird?”

“...I don’t know. I… Don’t really know what that is.”

“Just forget I ever said anything.”

“Why?”

_Because I think I’m falling for your best friend and I want someone to catch me._

\---

Harukawa has never felt this way before.

Sure, she thinks she’s felt something akin to it before, with her old friend at the orphanage. When things were peaches and cream and all she had to worry about was when dinnertime was coming. When she could close her eyes and make believe and pretend that she really was a “father.” When the world was small.

But nothing quite as strong as… This.

When she became an assassin, she lost her identity as Maki Harukawa. She was taken in and moulded to be a killing machine, any pesky emotions that would halt her from doing her job were forcibly erased. She was built from the ground up to do nothing but kill.

She wasn’t allowed to feel human.

Hell, she wasn’t allowed to _be_ human.

Becoming numb was the best possible coping mechanism for when you make a living by stealing the lives of both good and bad people. Horrible people, innocent people, they all fell prey to her knife. With their blood on her hands, how was she supposed to feel? Sick? Disgusted? Horrified?

She didn’t feel them as strongly as she should have.

But now, all of those emotions she tried to force back into the darkest crannies of her mind came spilling out. They came through in every crack in her voice, every tremble in her movements, every tear that she pushed back into her eyes.

She couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t pretend like these emotions didn’t exist. She trained so hard, so goddamn hard to keep them at bay, and yet here they resurfaced, pummeling her, pulling at her guts, probing her brain.

“I’ve never fallen for anyone before.”

The emotions come through in the sweat that forms on the hand that holds the knife. Her chest is tighter than it’s ever been, and she struggles to force a breath through her lips. She feels bound by chains that dig into her skin. The coldness in the pit of her stomach is indescribable, horrible, something she wishes she could take out and kill, violently stabbing a knife through every emotion that’s making her lose her cool.

Her stomach twists into knots, her arm that holds the knife up is trembling. Adrenaline overrides blood in her veins, and every fibre of her being is telling her to launch at Monokuma and tear the fucking bear to robotic pieces.

The thing that stops her is Momota.

His eyes are wide, and his skin is pale and sweaty. Blood drips from his cracked lips and stains the front of his shirt. Harukawa’s heart squeezes in pain. She’s never felt so sure of what she had to do, never felt something so strong in her life.

_I need to protect Momota._

_I need to protect Kaito!_

Her fingers tighten around the knife’s hilt. She’s panicking. She’s losing it. But at this point, she couldn’t care less. She’s never fought to protect someone before, and the emotions that fuel her drive are spreading throughout her whole body. Some are good, some are bad, most make her want to throw down her blade and scream.

She’s filled with pain, but with that comes with an intense feeling of protectiveness. She doesn’t know what’s happening. She doesn’t understand. The only thing she knows is that she can’t let Momota die yet. 

Not now.

Not ever.

She would kill everyone in this room including herself and excluding him if it meant he would live, if only for just a little longer. _Is this what they call love?_ The tears that run down her face are hot and wet, and they feel so foreign to her, so strange. _Or just insanity? Because I can't even tell the difference._

_When was the last time I cried?_

“Maki Roll, no!”

Hearing the nickname on his bloodied lips sends a spear of pain through her heart. She can’t stop. He’s going to die. Oh God, he’s really going to die. No no no _no no no NO!_ He _can’t_ die! He can’t die…

…  
…  
Momota… No…  
...  
…

Pain shoots through her. Icy fingers grip her body, twisting her around, holding up their hands to her mouth and pressing their fingernails into her throat. She can’t breathe. She can’t breathe. Why can’t she breathe? 

The tears don’t stop. How could they? 

She feels numb. But it’s a different kind of numb. It’s not the same way she felt, the way she was conditioned after years of intensive training and murdering people for money.

This feels much, much worse.

Like she’s expelled so many emotions at once that she’s too tired to feel anymore. She feels like her heart has been ripped from her chest, her blood turned to ice. Her brain can only register one thing- Momota’s body, splayed out in front of them, sliding from the spaceship’s interior.

She can’t move.

She can’t think.

She can’t feel.

Although, maybe that last one is for the best.

She fell in love, and she felt pain. Is it better to have loved and lost, not loved at all, or fall in love in a situation where the only possible outcome is an indescribable and unimaginable pain?

Momota was gone.

Momota was gone.

Momota. Was. Gone.

And she, the heartbroken assassin, taught to feel by him and his stubborn, loveable behaviour, collapsed under the weight of her emotions and sins.

One last thought-

_This is my fault._

**Author's Note:**

> i'm working on a kiibouma oneshot for the uni au so look forward to that  
> but i was STRUCk with inspiration so take this crappy little drabble  
> AND YES I KNOW I SKIPPED THE THIRD THINGS THIRD LYRIC BUT I THOUGHT THAT LAST THINGS LAST FIT BETTER OK


End file.
